


Banter in the Wind

by NamelesslyNightlock, Rabentochter



Series: This Was A Bad Idea (but we know what we're doing) [24]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Agreements, Alternate Universe - Wings, BAMF Loki (Marvel), BAMF Tony Stark, Banter, Dog Fighting, Feels, Fluff, Flying, Happy, Happy Ending, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Has A Heart, M/M, Magical Bond, Physical Disability, Play Fighting, Pre-Slash, Prosthesis, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23435770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/pseuds/Rabentochter
Summary: Tony’s never been ashamed of his wings.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: This Was A Bad Idea (but we know what we're doing) [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1388356
Comments: 62
Kudos: 608
Collections: Fics I Don't Want To Lose





	Banter in the Wind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [XrDragonix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XrDragonix/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALIX, WE HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD ONE 🙌🏼🎉

Tony’s never been ashamed of his wings.

Not before Afghanistan, and certainly not after–there’s a reason he added the gold to the red, so that the wing he’d forged with his own two hands stood out from the one he’d had his whole life. He couldn’t bear to part entirely from the deep red that had _always_ made him stand out in a crowd of more common browns and blacks, but at the same time, he’d _wanted_ everyone to know what he’d done.

He didn’t want to feel like he had anything to hide.

Of course, just because _he_ was proud of his accomplishment, that didn’t mean that the rest of the world felt in any way the same.

_Broken._

_Damaged._

_One-wing._

_Flightless._

He was hardly the first person who had ever lost a wing, hardly the first to have constructed a prosthetic– but he _was_ the first to flaunt his… _brokenness_ so openly.

The wing he wore now was far from the original of course, far sleeker than the mess of spare parts he’d cobbled together in a cave. It was the result of many versions, each one better than the one that came before, and he knew that this would be far from the last.

It went beyond just building himself a wing to replace the one he lost– because he’d discovered that he could make his wing better, faster, _stronger_ than the original had ever been.

And if that made him a monster in the eyes of everyone else, then… so be it.

All the wings he made, all the past versions– he kept them in his workshop, displaced upon the back wall.

He knew it made people uncomfortable– Pepper’s sparrow-wings always ruffled when her gaze landed upon the gleaming line of red and gold. But they made him _proud_ , so there they stayed.

Didn’t mean he didn’t feel it. Didn’t mean it wasn’t hard, to keep his head high when he heard the whispers.

But keep it high he did, and he was always at the head of the formation when he and the other Avengers flew out to battle—

And it was _he_ who made it to the landing site first, the desert dust billowing up around him as he set down in front of the group of… beings, the others still a few minutes behind him.

He was glad to have arrived first– he always believed that the way people reacted to the sight of _him_ was always a good indicator of their character. The big brawny guy in front, for example– his eyes glanced over Tony with the beginnings of wariness, like a warrior sizing up an opponent… but the moment his gaze slid past Tony’s red flight-suit and landed on his metallic wing, the guy’s expression immediately gained a touch of dismissal. The girl on his left hand similarly curled her lip, as if Tony were barely worth her time.

Well, you know what? Tony was more than used to being underestimated, and he was _more_ than capable of using that to his advantage. He certainly had the practice.

The dark-haired man to the blonde’s right, though… now _he_ was watching Tony in keen interest, his green eyes flicking over Tony’s wing with more curiosity than disdain. That was more than enough to tell Tony which of these people he’d need to watch out for if things turned nasty.

“Midgardian,” the blonde said, his voice a little hoity-toity for Tony’s liking. “I was brought to understand that there would be more of you.”

“Oh, they’re on their way. They just don’t quite have the same calibre engine that I do,” Tony said with a shrug. Then he let his lip lift into half a smirk. “And besides, _we_ were brought to understand that you would not be here for another quarter hour.”

The blonde frowned, but Green-eyes matched Tony’s smirk, his expression gaining something of a gleam as if– he were _enjoying_ this.

Huh.

The blonde was still frowning, and he looked about to speak. But then—

“We did not want to risk offence by being late,” Green-eyes said, his voice far smoother than Blondie’s could ever hope to be. Well, Tony was only all the more sure of where the brains resided in _that_ outfit.

“Well then, since you _are_ here,” Tony said, matching the smooth tone, “Then I suppose that I’m the official welcome party. Greetings, from planet Earth. Do you come in peace?”

“Certainly,” Green-eyes said, speaking once more before Blondie could even open his mouth. “The Allfather wishes to extend friendship to Midgard in these trying times.”

“You mean– you want our alliance now, after we already managed to fend off one alien invasion and now you guys are facing the same,” Tony replied. 

“ _Tony.”_

Tony didn’t let his smirk fall as he turned to see the others all landing behind him, not really caring what they thought of his methods.

And besides, Green-eyes didn’t seem offended– if anything, he just continued to look _amused._

Steve sighed as he pushed by Tony, his dark brown eagle-wings – _Golden_ eagle, despite what Steve allowed the media to believe – brushing Tony as he passed. Tony didn’t let his eyes linger on them– once upon a time he might have envied the pure power in them, but he was well beyond that now. He’d always been quick and agile, and now, he _knew_ he had the superior set.

“Good morning,” Steve said, holding out his hand to Blondie. “Captain Steve Rogers. Pleasure to meet you.”

Instead of taking the hand like Steve obviously expected, Blondie reached forward and clasped Steve’s forearm. Steve made a quick recovery though, and responded in kind.

“Thor,” Blondie replied. “Prince of Asgard. These are my brothers and sister in arms– Sif, Volstagg, Hogun, Fandral, and Loki of course.”

Green-eyes’– _Loki’s_ expression twitched slightly, as if Thor had said something wrong. _Interesting._

Steve and Thor started to talk negotiations, but– _boring_ , since they all knew that would go nowhere on the very first day, that these words were mere niceties to start with until the Asgardians could meet properly with, well, the UN probably—

But as Tony continued to eye his opponents, he realised that there was one other doing the same. Loki’s green eyes were on him, considering him, seemingly not paying any attention to the conversation between Thor and Steve at all– nor to the two other Avengers standing behind them.

His wings were like nothing Tony had ever seen, iridescent green splashed with gold that almost matched Tony’s prosthesis for ostentation. They must have been those of a bird from another realm, because yeah mother nature had created a myriad of beauties, but never could Tony imagine something so beautiful as this being anything less than otherworldly.

The way the bright sunlight caught the radiant plumage created shining patterns that were ever-changing, and Tony could have stared at those feathers forever– and when his gaze slid to Loki’s smug expression, it seemed that the other man knew it. Yet, the smugness was not absolute, and Tony felt a little of it himself as he noted the way that those green eyes flickered to his own wings– both the feathered jay that he’d had from birth, and the gleaming metal that he’d made with his own hands.

And when their gazes actually _met–_ both their lips turned up into matching smirks.

Tony wasn’t sure what was going on in the other man’s head, but– perhaps unsurprisingly, he knew that he wanted to find out.

He’d always been drawn in by intelligence, as well as by allure– and Loki seemed to have rather generous helpings of both.

It was a shame, really, that their silent appreciation of one another was broken by a sudden clash of thunder.

Loki immediately turned to look at Thor, his expression shifting to a grimace. Tony did the same– and Thor looked just as stormy as the sky, the thunderclouds that passed across his face promising deadly retribution.

For goodness’ sake. And here Tony thought leaving the talking to Steve would _avoid_ this outcome. Maybe he should have conducted the negotiations after all.

“We will not be able to allow your army to land here without first clearing it with the leaders of our planet,” Steve was insisting, his voice calm but betrayed by an underlying air of strain. “Earth doesn’t have a king, this will take some time—”

“Time that Asgard does not have. If you are not willing to agree to come to Asgard now to close the discussions with the Allfather—”

“It’s simply not possible. Unless we can organise a representative, which is unlikely, either a few delegates from the UN will have to go to Asgard or your Allfather will need to come before the General Assembly—”

“The Allfather will not come to Midgard—”

“There needs to be some kind of compromise—”

“The only compromise we know is to _duel.”_ It was the woman who spoke up– Sif. She looked just as stormy as Thor did, her sliver eyes gleaming as her hand went to the sword at her hip.

“A duel,” Thor agreed, nodding seriously as if that were a legitimate method of dealing in politics and _not_ something left behind in the nineteenth century. “We shall fight for the right to host the next discussion.”

“Now wait a minute,” Steve started– but Tony decided enough was enough, and cut in.

“We don’t really do duels here,” he said. “Look, I get that’s how you guys do things, but it’s against our laws. Perhaps we could find some middle ground.”

Tony would be lying if he said his eyes didn’t flick to Loki’s as he spoke, hoping to find some rationality on the other side. But if Green-eyes was just as entrenched in barbaric culture as his prince—

“How about a friendly competition?” Loki suggested– and Tony’s lips flicked up into a slight smile.

Thor and the other Asgardians, however, frowned, as if they did not even know the meaning of the term.

But Tony jumped in before any of the others could say a single thing.

“How about a race?”

“Too easy.” Loki’s grin was fierce, now. “How about… a _challenge._ Whoever stays in the air the longest is the victor—”

“Sabotage?” Tony cut in.

And Loki’s smirk deepened. “But of course.”

“Then both sides will choose their opponent,” Thor said– and although Steve spluttered, it was clear he realised that there was little choice in the matter at this point.

“Then we’ll pick Loki,” Tony said immediately– and beside him, Tony heard both Steve _and_ Natasha cursing under their breath. He clearly was not the only one who had noticed the stark disparity between skillsets in the group before them.

Thor’s lips curled– it seemed that he, too, believed Tony had made a mistake. Rather foolish of him to show his pleasure so openly, though.

Thor’s blue eyes cast over the group of Avengers, and Tony hoped for a moment that Loki would speak quickly and return the favour. But it was not long before that was proved unnecessary.

“Then we choose _you,”_ Thor said, nodding at Tony– or more specifically, Tony suspected, at his prosthetic wing. “If Loki knocks you out of the air first, then your leader will come to Agsard.”

“Leader _s,”_ Tony corrected. “But yeah, course. And _when_ I knock Loki out of the air, your king will come down here.”

Thor raised his brows. “We shall see.”

He was still smiling as if he believed he knew something the humans didn’t. Or maybe he just thought Tony had made a bad choice.

Maybe he, like so many others, thought Tony’s wing would cause him to fall from the sky in minutes, presenting hardly a challenge at all.

Well… Tony had always been good at proving people wrong—

And his wing was a fucking masterpiece.

He and Loki stood opposite each other, their eyes locked as they waited for the signal.

Natasha and the one called Hogun served as judges– the pair of them deemed to be the most likely to judge fair. Not that it would need judging– they’d agreed on no rules save that the first to hit the ground lost, and that there _must_ be no bodily harm.

Clint was the first to ask what would happen if one of them fell too hard, but Tony wasn’t all that worried. From the reports they’d gathered, an Asgardian could easily survive such a fall– and Tony knew it wouldn’t be _him_ hitting the deck.

“Fliers, on my mark.”

Tony spread his wings wide, stretching his muscles and rolling his shoulders. His wing-span was impressive, the red and black plumage reaching several metres to his right, and the sharpened, scarlet pinions the same on his left. There was no difference in size, very little in colour– he _knew_ he looked impressive, despite the way others looked down their noses.

Loki readied himself the same, his green and gold feathers more than impressive under the blue desert sky. The sight near on took Tony’s breath away, and he almost missed it when Nat and Hogun gave the signal—

Almost.

But not quite.

Tony’s wings thrust down in a sharp and powerful beat, the New Mexico dust rising up once more, billowing around him as his powerful wings hurtled him upward into the sky.

Loki was right behind him, faster than Tony could have imagined, his large wings impossibly streamlined. Loki remained immediately below him, and was gaining fast—

So Tony threw his wings outward to come to a stop, expecting that Loki would either need to rush a manoeuvre or risk a crash—

But Loki swerved, incredibly, _impossibly–_ twisting through the air and tilting to the side, his pinions just _barely_ clipping Tony in the thigh, sending him spinning.

Tony regained his balance quickly, the electricity in his wing –powered by the reactor in his chest – surging bright and hot as he repurposed the velocity of the spin, wings curling around his body as he shifted into a corkscrew. Loki’s eyes widened, and he snapped his wings closed—

Then Loki went plummeting down to the ground for a few moments before opening them sharply, riding the force of his fall before tilting back up at speed—

And Tony? Tony _grinned._

His own wings flared as he pulled to a stop before abruptly changing direction, narrowly missing being clipped by Loki again. Loki hadn’t expected that– he lost his balance for a moment, wings flapping as he tried to regain control—

And Tony put on the sharpest burst of speed he could, the electricity shooting sparks from his metal pinions as it forced him through the air far faster than any flesh and bone wing ever could have—

Loki’s eyes widened—

Then he threw out his _hand,_ and it was Tony’s turn to stare in a moment of shock before a bright flash of green careened toward him—

Tony only _just_ avoided it, but another blast was on its way, coming too fast and too hot, and there was no way Tony was going to be able to get out of the way in time. Instinctively, he forced his right wing down to keep him airborne while his left came around in front of his face, feathers snapping together to form a shield.

The blast pushed him back, almost knocked him out of the sky, but the moment it was done both of his wings were beating through the air once more—

And Loki was staring at him in what could only be astonishment.

They both hovered, for a moment– their only movement the beat of their wings, their eyes locked in mutual respect.

“You are impressive,” Loki said, tilting his head. “I admit, I find myself…”

“Surprised?” Tony asked.

“ _Interested._ You are a rather incredible being, Tony Stark.”

“Even though I’m a one-wing?” Tony asked, arching a brow– though he spoke out of curiosity, not bitterness. “Even though I’m unbalanced? _Broken?”_

“I don’t believe that you are anything of the sort,” Loki replied. And, somehow, he managed to speak without a single ounce of pity. “How can you be, when—”

“When I’m winning?”

“When there is nothing wrong with you,” Loki replied, almost forcibly. “You’re not broken, because you’re not missing anything. You may have lost your wing, but it is clear that you held on to _yourself_ , and that is more important than anything.”

Tony stared a little longer, before feeling a need to swallow down the lump that had formed in his throat.

“If you’re just trying to distract me—”

“I’m not.” Loki moved a little closer, his wings lifting him a little higher as he did so. “You know… you fly beautifully. And anyone who has ever told you any different is a liar. Do you know why I suggested what I did?”

“The same reason I chose you, I imagine,” Tony said. “You’re just as used to being overlooked as I am, aren’t you? Thor might have thought you were going to beat me, but that means nothing when he looked down on me as he did. I heard the way he introduced you, the same as any of the others, when you’re a prince as well, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Loki confirmed. “And while my word is little against Thor’s, I do hold some sway. And I asked to fight you, Stark, because I could see that _you_ would be the best ally.”

Tony smirked at that. He _knew_ it. “You know, if those two blondes don’t stuff this up, _we_ might be able to forge an alliance,” he said. “We just need some neutral ground.”

“The Allfather may yet agree to meet on Vanaheim,” Loki said. 

“And I might be able to sell that.” Tony grinned. “Wow, would you look at that. It’s that easy.”

Loki snorted, and Tony’s grin widened.

“Shall we shake on it?” he asked.

But Loki shook his head. “I have something better.” He lifted one hand in front of him, just one single finger– and his wings and the tails of his leather coat flared open as he started to move down closer to Tony.

Understanding what he wanted, Tony beat his wings to bring himself up and forward, his index finger extended to match the way Loki was holding his own.

Tony was curious, but Loki’s expression was calm, so Tony reached forward to touch their fingers together—

And then he gasped as a spark passed between them, the electricity in his wings dancing at the contact with whatever power Loki held, a connection forging between them which felt significantly sharper than any handshake.

And when Tony pulled his finger back, the pair of them beating their wings so they began to circle– he could _feel_ the agreement between them.

It might have scared him, except… it went both ways. This would ensure that both of their realms would stay safe.

Tony cleared his throat, and met Loki’s gaze. “I suppose this means that we call it a tie?” Tony asked.

“Of course.” Then Loki’s green eyes gleamed. “But why should we give up so soon? I was enjoying myself, weren’t you?”

Tony caught on immediately– and he found himself liking Loki more and more. “If you think you’ll be able to touch me, you’re in for a surprise.”

“I believe you might find yourself corrected,” Loki replied, visibly amused. “Your wing is impressive, but it is nothing compared to my seiðr.”

And for the first time upon hearing someone claim his wing to be lesser, Tony’s grin turned wolfish. “Oh, you think so?”

“More than that, Stark. I _know_ so.”

Tony opened his mouth, about to reply—

But then he darted forward instead, an attempt to take the other by surprise. Loki dodged, his bright laugh echoing in the wind—

Uncaring of those waiting below they renewed their dance through the air, both the desert heat and their bright enjoyment buoying them up high.

And Tony?

Somehow, he didn’t think he’d ever felt less broken.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the art for this fic on tumblr [here.](https://rabentochter.tumblr.com/post/614237109260320768/banter-in-the-wind-with-quietlyapocalyptic-for)


End file.
